


Blue Morning (Excerpt Two): Terrible Lie

by PhoenixDragon



Series: Blue Morning Excerpts [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Dark, Dubious Consent, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Horror, M/M, Non Consensual, Psychological Drama, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con References, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDragon/pseuds/PhoenixDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Those eyes so, so intent - one hand coming up to brush Rory's cheek; a gesture he found more comforting, more certain when the Doctor was dealing with Amy. The deep sadness and apology stunned him though, kept him from snapping at the TimeLord for such familiarities, his own eyes filled with questions.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Morning (Excerpt Two): Terrible Lie

  


_You made me throw it all away.  
My morals left to decay.  
How many you betray.  
You've taken everything._  


  
_My head is filled with disease.  
My skin is begging you please.  
I'm on my hands and knees.  
I want so much to believe._   


  
_~ **Terrible Lie**_ \-  Nine Inch Nails  


  
**  
Section I   
**   


Rory almost didn't catch it at first. He wasn't sure he heard right the second time either - but he couldn't be blamed for that - the Doctor gave some of the most _phenomenal_ blowjobs ever, so a bloke could be forgiven if his ears didn't work right after his brains were just sucked out of his cock.

He had manhandled the TimeLord back against the cramped column of the TARDIS engine area, admiring (as he always did) how such a tall man could be squeezed and held in such a tight space, so he wasn't operating at full capacity to begin with. The Doctor already looked debauched - his bowtie half unraveled, one suspender hanging off his arm, shirt rumpled and half out of his trousers, three buttons missing from where Rory got over-enthusiastic.

His hair was a rooster-tailed mess, half falling into his right eye, lips red and shiny with saliva (and other things if Rory had put much thought to it) - the blue-black of the lights only serving to amplify the bruising around his throat where (once again) Rory had gotten over-excited. But those bruises weren't all him. The Doctor had tried to blow him off, tried to distract him from serving out what was owed and he paid for it, before letting his mouth make up his debt.

Which it did quite well if Rory was any judge - and seeing how (as far as he knew) he was the _only_ judge thus far...

He still didn't catch it completely the third time. The Doctor's whisper could barely be heard the first two times, though his mouth practically rested against Rory's ear. Rory's hand was already around the Doctor's dick working it into full arousal, even as the TimeLord did as he always did - resisted violently.

He had half a mind to gag him (creature always did talk too much), when it finally registered what he was saying.

"What?" It was more being startled that gave him his harsh tone. The Doctor never actually _said_ anything when Rory was fucking him, not after the first time, anyway. He was hard-pressed to get much beyond screams and whispered pleas - and that was when he was playing rough. Then to add to the whole surreal experience, the Doctor was _there_. He was looking at Rory intently, the normal plea less filled with shame and more with an intense, unfamiliar need.

Rory kissed him before the TimeLord could speak again - the blown depths of the Doctor's eyes singing through his blood - their focus a pleasure and an irritant all at once. He nipped those delicious lips (tasting himself in the process) and nuzzled threateningly against the Doctor's throat, his own whisper almost getting lost in the hum of the TARDIS' Time Rotor above them.

"Who gave you permission to speak? Hmmmm?"

"Rory... _please_ -" The Doctor whispered, urgent, unruffled for that moment (curiously) by the threat Rory posed him.

Rory twisted his wrist harder, smiling like a tiger when the Doctor's knees buckled, a gasping half-whine humming through his nose before he could stop it. The Doctor bucked into his grip, licking wantonly at Rory's fingers when they traced over his lips, eyes rolling back into his head as Rory pinned him bodily against the console-tree, lazily humping his hip in time with his strokes along the Doctor's cock.

"So filthy and hot," Rory whispered thickly. "So beautiful when you're like this...you have permission to speak - if you can."

"R-rory...I-I," The Doctor gasped, wriggling as he tried to shake off the pleasure, shake off the hand that was jerking him slow and steady, brow crinkled in concentration. "I can...I can fix this - I -"

Rory gave an extra deft twist along the upstroke and the Doctor panted in response, the shimmying slide of his body against Rory's causing a spark of interest low in the other man's belly. If the TimeLord kept this up, he'd get the full treatment within the next ten minutes.

"So _gorgeous_ ,"Rory murmured. "Gonna come for me?"

" _Rory_ -" Desperate now.

"Just a little more...that's it -"

" _Please_ -" Despair bled through his tone; but there was something else - something was wrong.

Rory pulled back after licking a stripe along the Doctor's jaw, slowing the frantic shuffle of his hand along the Doctor's dick, noting absently that his fingers were smeared with the TimeLord's precum. He pulled his hand out of the open vee of the Doctor's trousers - a flicker of relief, disappointment and fear crossing those heavy-lidded eyes before the Doctor shook himself awake, that urgency, that wrongness still bleeding from him and straight under Rory's skin. The intensity of his gaze, the swollen tilt to his lips pulled Rory back for just a mere moment -

 

_Light from the Pandorica so, so bright - yet that grey pallor fell over everything, the man inside more dead than alive...and more Raggedy than before, his smile sad and happy all at once and_

 

\- the blue-grey lighting around them only cementing the feeling of deja vu.

Rory didn't get his chance to speak - to ask why he felt something was so urgent as to interrupt what had just gotten started; the words tumbling from the Doctor's lips so fast he had to mentally rewind to catch up.

"Rory...Rory - I can...I can fix all of this. I can make it right again. I can give you everything you ever wanted - I can take away everything you ever hated. But we _have_ to go back."

Those eyes so, so intent - one hand coming up to brush Rory's cheek; a gesture he found more comforting, more certain when the Doctor was dealing with Amy. The deep sadness and apology stunned him though, kept him from snapping at the TimeLord for such familiarities, his own eyes filled with questions.

"Do you - do you still trust me, Rory?"

"What are you on about -"

"I...I need you to trust me -" The Doctor whispered, so low it was a mere breath over his lips. Those lips that touched against Rory's ever so lightly, hesitant, as if unsure of their welcome. "Do you still trust me?"

Rory stared at him, unable to respond even if he _had_ a response to give. Of course he did - he still trusted the Doctor with his life. He had lost everything because of this man, but god help him, he still trusted him. He nodded minutely, surprised and pleased when the Doctor grew bolder, leaning in to kiss him again (another first), a mere brush of soft flesh and the tip of his tongue before he was sliding down Rory's body, hands everywhere, mouth randomly placing kisses on his way down.

" _Trust me_ ," he murmured into Rory's hip, nuzzling at the open zip of Rory's jeans, voice husky with that unnamed urgency, breath warm against the exposed flesh of his pelvis. "Trust me, trust me, trust -"

Rory groaned as the Doctor placed a hot, opened mouthed kiss just below his navel, his whispers a rushed buzz of feeling over the skin of Rory's abdomen. Rory startled further when the Doctor shuffled closer, grip crushing as he tried to manuever Rory's pants down his hips, mouth seeking Rory's reawakening cock.

" _Shit_ ," Rory muttered, voice thin as he hauled the Doctor back up by his hair, grinning toothily when the TimeLord snarled his defiance, though he made no move to break Rory's hold. He kept him wedged into the console tree, twisting the grip he had in the other man's hair, forcing his head back so he could look him full in the face.

He was unable to resist crushing that mouth to his, his other hand dropping low to brush against the Doctor's half-hard dick, the touch deliberately light and teasing. The Doctor snarled again, a silent resistance to Rory's manhandling even as he kissed back, lips bruising under the pressure of Rory's mouth on his.

Rory forced himself to stop, but was unable to keep from biting another bruise under the Doctor's jaw, chuckling low when the other man groaned in pain, the smell of sweat and adrenaline making it hard to stop there.

But there was a question that begged answering.

"Why _now_ , TimeLord? _Why_? What are you going to _fix_ , hmmm?" Rory got a tight, tight, tighter grip on the Doctor's cock, squeezing to the point of pain, leaving the alien gasping and quaking against him.

" ** _Rory_** -" High and thin with restrained agony.

" _Doctor_ -" Rory set and edge to his voice, but gentled his touches, placing feather-light kisses against the Doctor's throat, enticing, coaxing as the man trembled in his iron hold.

"Trust me," the Doctor whispered, voice thin and airless. "Please...Rory - I just...I need you to _trust me_. I can make it right, just say the word and it'll be done."

Those long fingers spidered their way from Rory's shoulders (a rule set a long time ago) to caress and soothe through Rory's hair, those lips so close again, brushing Rory's as he spoke - those eyes...intense and sad and endless. For the first time in a long time, the Doctor's gaze scared Rory. Belly-clenching, 'this is gonna end badly', skin-crawling fear that ate at your heart and stopped the breath in your lungs.

"Stop," Rory rasped. "Whatever _this_ is - just _stop_ -"

"I can give you everything back, Rory Williams," the Doctor crooned, playful lilt to his voice as those eyes stared deadly serious into his own. "No questions, no hesitation - do you want it?"

"What - what are you asking me?"

"I can give it all back," the Doctor breathed, eyes never leaving his, mouth hovering in sweet promise over Rory's own, the set of his body hinting mind-blowing pleasure as he rubbed his thigh against Rory's crotch, teasing him, distracting him. "Your wife, your _Amy_...your existence before - _all_ of it...just -"

The Doctor placed a light kiss on the corner of his mouth, eyes closing as he seemed to breathe Rory in, voice tightening for that fraction of a second as he whispered honeyed promises of Before to him.

"If you trust me...let me give it _back_ \- everything that you had. This whole nightmare can be erased - time can be rewritten and none of this -"

"Will have happened,"Rory finished woodenly. His heart clenched in his chest as he worked it out, as he thought it through -

 

_Time can be rewritten, nothing's ever set in stone..._

_The Bang that brings us back, right?_

_Raggedy Man, I remember you!_

 

\- the Doctor kept placing soft kisses against his lips, his jaw, his eyes (he'd closed them?) - his voice a soothing hum of nonsense that pounded relentlessly against the void of Rory's ears.

He couldn't be saying...

But the Doctor was tasting, kissing, caressing him as if he'd never get another chance. No resistance, no fight - there was nothing familiar about this, though the feeling of goodbye was familiar enough.

"Just let me have this one more - no pain, just -" the TimeLord pressed against him, deflecting; a different kind of resistance. "I'll make it beautiful, _good_ \- I don't know if that's what you want from me...but _please_ \- Rory, just this _once_ -"

Rory then realised he was still loosely holding the Doctor's cock in his fist when the TimeLord rocked into the grip, those warm, firm hands cupping Rory's jaw, leaning in to kiss him.

Rory knew right then, that this would be a kiss to end all kisses.

He could see them tangled on the floor or in the Doctor's bed, kissing with passion and fire as they slid over the edge of Oblivion together; the pleasure would be the purest he had ever known, the love the deepest he would ever feel. He would touch the gates of Heaven and know them for the perfection they were.

But at what cost?

The fear coiled low and cold in his belly curdled into black anger, the terror taking a life of its own. He got a good grip on the Doctor's shoulders and shoved him off, lips twisting in sorrow and a sick thrill as the Doctor slammed back into the console-tree, a gasp of surprise escaping him before he could bite it back.

"And _then_ what, _TimeLord_?" He hissed, wanting him to fight back, to realise what he was saying was madness, it was _death_ \- it would be a loss so big no hole could fill it. How could he say yes to _that_?!

"Then," the Doctor rumbled back, fire flashing in those timeless eyes for a mere flicker of a moment before they softened again; an answering sorrow and an alien peace taking its place. "Then you get what _belongs_ to you. You get what you've always dreamed, desired - why is this a _question_? I thought you _trusted_ me -"

"And what will you erase, _Doctor_? What _else_ will you take from us?!"

The Doctor didn't answer for a long minute. It was truly one of the longest of Rory's life, even though he knew the answer. He wasn't a fool, it wasn't an idiot - the Doctor knew this, he depended on it.

"The one thing," he finally said, sliding down to land with a thud, eyes deliberately avoiding the man's above him. He stroked a shaky hand over the side of the TARDIS’ engine housing, breathing along with her wistful hums. "The one thing you've never needed Rory. The one thing that should have never thrown a shadow on your door."

" _You can't do that_ -"

"So you don't trust me, then?" Sadly, breaking at his feet without even a touch or a sound. "Why did you have to ask - why do you always have to _push_?!"

" _I trust you_ \- and I _trust you_ to come up with another way!"

"There is no other way, Rory - look it would be so _simple_ , I could -"

" _Shut up_!!" Rory roared, shaking in fear and sorrow and anger, the emotions too mixed to separate and examine the way he knew he should. "Stop talking like it is _nothing_! Like _you_ -"

Those ancient eyes -

They caught on his own and the despair, the bleakness within their depths blew him away.

"I'm an old man, Rory.” A rushed tumble of words, like the Doctor always did when he was trying to convince you. “This- _this_ is a mistake that should have never been made. My selfishness had Amy call me from the Void...and now look where we are. Look at what I've _done_ to you. What I've done to _**her**_. Can you say - are you _honestly_ okay with this?"

"Stop it...shut _up_ -"

"Rory...it's _okay_ , just _please_...trust me -"

Rory choked in despairing rage, knowing that the Doctor was giving him a kindness. He told him before he did it, let him know how much he still loved him after _everything_...but Rory wasn't going to be able to stop him.

Nothing would -

 

_Trust me, I'm the Doctor..._

_How did we forget the Doctor?_

 

\- "You know I can't let this go on...I just -"

" _ **How**_?"

Another long pause, another moment when the Doctor's eyes shifted from his, leaving him desolate and alone; like he was already gone and that part, that _piece_ was already missing.

"The book..."

"The book?" Rory remembered distantly -

 

_Ohh, VERY clever - something old, something new, something borrowed...something BLUE._

_It was left by some woman..._

 

\- "River's book."

His voice sounded flat, hollowed out to his own ears so it was with some satisfaction he saw the Doctor flinch, a watery smile working its way across his ridiculous, impossible, beautiful face and it might be the last smile he ever saw from him.

"Yes... _that_...that was the key. That moment in time, that _second_ -"

"You can't go back on your own history," Rory rasped, trying to swallow past the utter horror of what the Doctor was proposing but unable to even _breathe_ around it.The answer was there, right on the edge of his mind and he wondered - how many times had the Doctor gone over this? How close of a call was it that this...this - _Event_ would have happened and Rory would have woken up in his bed in Leadsworth, none the wiser for any of it.

"It's not _my_ history, Rory -"

" - because you didn't exist." Rory finished, the last word thudding around in his chest before falling limply out of his mouth. "You _can't_ -"

"Oh, Rory," the Doctor sighed at his feet, that smile so brilliant - and all for him. "I _will_...I just - I wanted you to know, I suppose. An old man's selfishness, right? I wanted...I wanted you to indulge me. To trust me this once more - this is the _only way_. For you, for Amy, for your baby -"

" _What about **you**_?!" Rory raged, anger and sorrow so thick in his heart he thought it would burst from it. "What. About. _YOU_?"

"Ahhh, Roranicous Pondicus," the Doctor chided gently. "What _about_ me?"

 

  
**  
Section II   
**   


Rory caught him outside his room, the hour so late even the TARDIS seemed to be dozing, the halls silent of all but the Doctor's footsteps and Rory's enraged, trembling inhales. He wandered towards Rory's silent form, eyes unseeing, head down as he walked, thin shoulders hunched in thought, ashen face a study in quiet misery. The Doctor almost caught him - if he hadn't been so buried in his own mind, he would have (a thought that thrilled and enraged Rory further).

The Doctor just dumped this in his lap - this horrible decision that he’d made; it would give Rory all - and yet take everything away, as well. He would have all that he had wanted in the beginning, but everything he had now -

_tracing those lips with rough fingers, the hard line of the Doctor's cock and how it fit just so against his hip, the way he could beg so softly, be kissed so bruisingly, scream so beautifully, his breath hot, sobbing gasps against Rory's neck, smelling of wool, sandalwood and stardust_

 

\- that was so special, so wrong, so beautiful and important...it would be _gone_. He knew the Doctor would take matter into his own hands if he let him. He was mad, he was brilliant - he was dangerous now, to himself. His total destruction would be a gorgeous sight to behold - but one that would never be remembered. And Rory just couldn't have that. Not completely...not so _forgettably_.

And what would Amy have said?

He waited until he was just inside the room before grabbing him from behind, a slight sock to his temple dazing him long enough for Rory to _think_. What should he do? Threaten him? _Order_ him to stop this madness?

"Rory?" A breathless croak from beneath him. He hadn't even realised that he had the Doctor face down across his bed, the dim stillness of the room telling Rory that he hadn't recovered fully - not yet anyway. He was consumed by an utterly weary hate of this creature; the one who made him feel when he shouldn't...the one who loved him despite it all.

And he knew what he had to do.

 

  
**  
Section III   
**   


He could feel it, when the TimeLord started coming to after that second blow to his temple. The subtle shift and shiver of the body laid out beside him as The Doctor tested his bonds; panic tightly controlled in his voice when it drifted to Rory out of the dark.

"Pond...what is this? Why do you -"

"Need to make sure you aren't going anywhere, Doctor," Rory interrupted calmly, though the steady, steady thrum of _something_ in the TimeLord's voice had his heart racing in his chest all over again. It was too calm, too steady - almost as if what they would discuss here had no merit whatsoever. "We need to talk."

There was a tick of silence - the steady rasp of the Doctor's breathing, accentuated with the creak and grind of the bed as the Doctor pulled on the straps that held him down. Three beats of breathless time before he broke the stillness that permeated Rory's senses as deeply, as endlessly as the blackness of the room. It matched his heart at the moment, that blackness - but he found it could still beat when the Doctor's soft whisper reverberated from everywhere and nowhere to his waiting ears.

"Nothing to talk about, Rory. You had your answer. You _gave_ your answer. There's nothing for it, is there - unless you have a _better_ idea?"

The low, subtle scrape of cruelty where it always hurt most. The Doctor always had the answers - they were just along for the ride. And if this was all he could come up with...well, that was that - wasn't it?

"Rory...let me go - there's no _point_ to this. What are you hoping to accomplish?"

"Reason? Sanity?" Rory responded, not really thinking it through - but his head ached and his eyes were heavy and after all of his losses he just couldn't take one more. Not this one, not this time. He resented the implications of this loss more than anything else - he'd have Amy and they'd have their baby, the one they were meant to have...but he'd never know the Doctor.

He'd never know he missed him - and he hated that idea more than he'd ever hated anything before. He knew Amy would, too - but this...this wasn't _about_ Amy. For once, it wasn't about _**Amy**_. This was about him and the Doctor and whatever this weird, fucked up thing between them was. He'd never know of it (how can you miss what you never knew), but that idea just sat heavy in his stomach and made him ill at the mere thought of it.

"Because sanity and reason is tying a man to his own bed, with his own set of braces," the Doctor retorted dryly.

"Don't be flippant."

"Hard to be flippant in such a state, Pond," the Doctor fired back. "If you could just -"

But Rory wasn't hearing him at that moment -

 

_Head bowed, plodding along the corridor, eyes blank. Like there was nothing to think about. Not paying attention to his surroundings, lost - like he had already gone away and his body was just too stupid to lay down. The calm in his voice - not rationalising, not protesting - just...there_

 

\- his mind too busy picking apart the last ten minutes, how easy and how hard it was to take down one of the most powerful creatures he had ever known; to tie him down and let him stew while he tried to think of a plea that would stay him from ending his own life. It had always been too easy to take him apart, to humiliate and to debase him, but only because the Doctor allowed it (Rory held no illusions there) - but this...this was the last step on the road to self-destruction - this...

"You were going to do it tonight," Rory croaked out, mouth dry as his brain tried to spit the words it had swirling about like an impossible tornado. "You were! You were going to - and you weren't going to _tell me_ -"

The flinch from the Doctor trembled up from the mattress to the backs of Rory's thighs, that single motion telling him all he needed to know even before the Doctor could spell it out for him.

"I'd already told you - weren't you -"

"And I told you that you _can't_!"

"And just how were you planning to stop me, Rory Williams?" Calm, deceptively calm, with that hint of steel underneath; deadly and cold.

 

  
**O~O~O**   


 

"Look, this is foolish. Untied me, Rory - it doesn't matter, alright? In the end, this is how it will happen. I'm sorry I sprung it on you like this, but..."

The bed creaked again and Rory's headache spiked, trying his best to not cry at how cool, how casual the Doctor was about ending his own _life_. Like this was another adventure and after they stumbled back into the TARDIS, the bruises would fade with time and an application of the sonic.

"Don't lose focus, okay? You'll get what you want...what you've always wanted. I haven't lost sight of that - don't you lose sight of it. This is just...another bump in the road, right?"

"Stop it - stop saying that," Rory gasped out, unsure how long he'd be able to keep steady. He couldn't _think_ , he could barely breathe - and he was sure that was why the Doctor was talkingtalkingtalking...to keep him off balance, to talk him around to letting him fucking _**kill**_ himself.

For him.

For Amy.

And he just...he couldn't.

"This is the **end** , Doctor - don't pretend it isn't -"

"And wouldn't that be better all around, Pond?" A harsh bark that would have sounded like a laugh if it wasn't so filled with hate and anger. He had never heard that tone out of the Doctor and he would have given anything to unhear it now. It was ugly; it was the universe collapsing all over again.

"Haven't you ever wished that I would just lay down and _die_ already? That I would stop...just _**stop**_? That I had never -"

He cut himself off and stilled in his bonds, his breathing rapid and thin, trying to control himself; rein himself in.

Even Rory knew he had given too much away with that outburst.

"It'll be better...I promise. You don't need me here, but to make it better, you _do_ need me gone. I'm ready, I'm _willing_ to do that for you - I've lived a long time, Rory. It's time for me to stop..."

Rory could feel his own breath stop in his lungs -

 

_I've been running...my whole life - now it's time for me to stop. And I need you all with me..._

 

\- No, no, no...that was a different lifetime, obviously The Doctor wasn't going to set in motion that particular event. It was a paradox within a paradox; sealed away with one little theft of a very important book. Then the paradox would stop.

All paradoxes would stop.

And no one would remember them...no one would remember the _Doctor_. They would all be changed forever, it would make him less, it would change Amy, their baby, their _world_.

But who said it would be better?

"Amy...Doctor - what about Amy?"

"She'll be fine, won't she?" Quietly, so soft Rory had to lean over him to hear him; lean and breathe in that stardust and wool smell that had imprinted itself so firmly in his senses that he hardly noticed anymore. And if this happened, he'd never know it.

Rory had to struggle to hold back a sob at that thought, wishing he could call the anger back; fill the hole that was growing wider and wider inside. It was black, it was void that hole...and on the other side was the man under him. He was getting further away even as he was right here.

"She'll be gorgeous, wonderful, wild and impossible Amy Williams -"

"Pond." Rory gritted out, pleased when the Doctor startled beside his hip, body still for a second as he absorbed that.

"No, Rory - she'll be yours...yours completely. Please - this is what you want. This is always what you want - now please...let me go."

 

  
**  
Aftermath...   
**   


The room was still dark when he returned.

He wasn't sure how long he had been gone, but it felt like a long time; could have been his exhaustion speaking for him, in truth - but it still felt like hours. He watched the still form on the bed, the tall, thin body seeming to melt into the surroundings, become less with every breath he took. It _hurt_ , seeing him like that -

It hurt even more to know that he had done that. This wasn't a game anymore, a test of wills - a mutual attraction wrestled out in corridors and underneath the console that they refused to see or understand. He could no longer...hell, he didn't have the _luxury_ \- of denying what he had done this time. And what was worse? What really took the cake, the platter and the pan?

He'd do it again.

Before... _before_ he was given that power over him. It was relinquished as his due, the TimeLord bending to his will as punishment for something he could never understand, but was willing to mete out. And they both enjoyed it - there was no saying it wasn't so. Those rare moments when one or the other forgot themselves -

 

_Leaning close, casually letting their lips brush, feeling his name being formed silently against the sensitive flesh of his mouth; the rush as he realised he was there, he was aware._

_That he wanted this just as much._

_"Please...please -_ Doctor _-"_

 

\- forgot what the dynamic was suppose to be and gave into that wierd lust, admiration and hate combination that had transformed and and twisted in on itself so many times it could no longer be defined.

But this time...this time there was no give and take. No bending to will and swaying with the power of that will given. No, this time he just _took_ it. He took the Doctor's will away. He rubbed it in his face that after all this time, the game was no longer a game.

He had taken the most feared creature in the cosmos and brought him to his knees. He had conquered the most powerful being he could even comprehend and it broke beneath him. His will against the Doctor's – and the TimeLord had met his match. He crumbled beneath Rory's disgust and anger and hate and just... _took_ it. And after those first intial pleas (and that one horrifying scream, one that he would never, _ever_ forget, even if the Doctor went forward as planned), the TimeLord went silent and still, his body the perfect doll to be moved and manhandled.

Like he wasn't even _there_ anymore.

But so help him – he'd do it again.

That scream would haunt his dreams and every waking moment for an eternity; but the rush of power, that perfect ecstasy of feeling -

He had become a monster.

 _Him_. Rory Patrick Williams of Leadsworth, UK; the most gentle, docile and dull creature ever _concepted_ of -

A _**monster**_.

But most infuriating of all - the Doctor would never see it that way. And if...if he let this pass, the Doctor would never bear any grudge, would never seek revenge; even if he knew Rory might do it again ( _and again and again and again_ ). The 'game' would reach a whole new level. Just the thought made him both sick to his stomach and more excited and aroused than he had ever thought possible.

He trudged closer, his disgust and horror with himself and the things he had learned about what he had now become weighing his steps; fueling the exhaustion that had set heavy on his shoulders since he had first commited this horrifying act. One that he longed to do again, even as his psyche shrinked away from the idea - his own coldness to the situation he had created only entrenching his newfound self-loathing. He tried to rally some disgust and hate for the Doctor, but he could barely muster enough pity to set his feet in motion; sinking to his knees beside the bed to undo the elastic restraints he had wrapped the Doctor's forearms with...

**Author's Note:**

> **Original Posting Date for this Work at Livejournal: August 2, 2011**
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> **Please Check First Part for all Warnings and Disclaimers**


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